


A Little Less Conversation

by EntreNous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Frottage, Groping, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-02
Updated: 2007-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Ron has to miss a trip to Hogsmeade because of a detention, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Draco Malfoy.  But Draco insists they have a conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to elucidate-this for the beta, and to dancetomato for the encouragement.

It wasn't only Malfoy who made fun of Ron for being skint all the time, for having a family well-known for eccentricities or for being miserable at Keeping.

But Malfoy was the only one who made the vein in Ron's neck throb when he offered a drawling insult, started in on Ron's mum or dad for being Muggle-loving simpletons, or even just looked at him with that smirk on his lips telling Ron that Malfoy was about to play him for the fool.

There was usually someone around when it began. Ron learned early enough that Malfoy's preferred mode of doling out derisive remarks included the participation of an audience. Whether the watchers were jeering or uncomfortable, Draco seemed to enjoy having others around to witness his humiliating barbs.

Which was why it was such a surprise that second to last Saturday in November when Malfoy started in on Ron in the empty hallway.

Everyone -- at least, everyone from the third year on up -- had already gone off to Hogsmeade. Since the hallways were empty, Ron assumed the lower students were probably studying like mad, ensconced in their common rooms and the library as they prepared for long papers due at month's end.

As for Ron, he had served a long detention with Snape that kept him from the trip ("Clean the cauldrons out thoroughly -- no, _by hand_ , none of your lazy wand work here, Mr. Weasley"), and by the looks of it, Draco had been forced to remain behind as well. But with no one about to witness Ron's fuming and Malfoy's laughter, he assumed that Malfoy would saunter right by with none of his usual verbal jabs.

It was, then, a really unpleasant surprise when Malfoy decided to make the already horrid day more awful by stopping in front of him. Malfoy smirked and rocked back and forth on his feet, casting his eyes up and down Ron as though searching for the best topic to begin with.

"Afternoon, Weasley." Draco slid his hands into his trouser pockets, making his open robe frame his expensive shirt and trousers. "A fine day to go to Hogsmeade . . . but, wait, you're _here_ , aren't you? Hmmmm."

Ron grumbled something indistinct, staring not at Malfoy’s keen gaze but at his perfectly coiffed hair. How he’d like to mess up all those carefully combed strands . . .

"Have to stay back because you couldn't afford the cheapest sweet at Honeydukes?" Malfoy asked, making a mocking moue of his full lips. "That would be rather embarrassing, I should think, tagging along after your friends when they heap Galleons on the counter for Treacle Fudge and Fizzing Whizbees. I can understand why you're skulking around here instead; perhaps hoping a House Elf will come along and give you a handout."

"I'm not --" Ron started.

"Or maybe you needed to stay to do homework, to avoid a "T" on your Charms essay?" Draco sighed, as if disappointed. "What a shame it would be if your mother had to watch her son repeat a year, especially after your brothers left Hogwarts without even trying for their N.E.W.T.s . Well done, then, to stay and aim for that 'P' so we can all be proud of your accomplishments."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snapped. His fingers twitched. No one was about. He could shove Draco away, or, maybe even better, grab him and drag him closer so Ron could yell in his aristocratic looking face that he had no right, no right to talk to Ron this way.

Malfoy smiled widely and took a step closer. "Don't want to."

"Why are you here?" Ron demanded.

"Oh, well." Draco swelled importantly, something he managed surprisingly well given that he was so slim. "I've just had a meeting with my Head of House, about the excellent work I've been doing as Prefect. I shouldn't be surprised if they're considering making me Head Boy. Father says that with my talents and our family name, I'm the best candidate they've got." He leaned in closer and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "And of course, it would be embarrassing to the entire school to have to suffer _another_ Weasley in the position, as though there were no worthier candidates, don't you think? Not good for morale, really."

"Don't start with me, Malfoy," Ron growled. The feeling of Malfoy’s warm breath against his ear had made him shiver. Somehow that made him want to grab Malfoy’s shoulders to give him a shake, one that would drive home the point of how helpless Draco’s smaller Seeker’s body would be against Ron’s height and strength.

"I will if I like. Already have, when it comes down to it. After all, what are you going to do to stop me?"

It was enough to make Ron see red -- he knew he was _turning_ red already, because he sensed his face burning. But now all of him, from his eyes to his fists, right down to his toes curling inside of Charlie’s cast-off boots, felt hot and angry.

" _This_ ," he shouted, and then, for lack of a better plan, shoved Malfoy up against the wall. He had been about to give him a smack, or yank him forward and slam him back again. He meant to do anything but what he actually did, which was to surge forward and crush their mouths together.

Malfoy grabbed Ron's arms, as though to push him away. But the pressure caused Ron to stumble to the side and lurch forward, making both of them to fall into a nearby alcove that had been hidden behind a tapestry.

"Shut up, just shut up," Ron said fiercely, though in truth Draco hadn't tried to say anything else. But there was no time to think about that, for Ron had Draco against a new wall, and was shoving his leg in between Draco's thighs to bring their bodies together, all the while that he kissed and bit and moved against him with a fury.

He found he'd managed to pull Draco's expensive shirt open when he realized his thumbs were skimming circles along Draco's nipples and scratching the path of muscles along Draco's torso. At some point, Draco had knocked Ron's robes askew and stolen under his t-shirt, and when Ron began to push and press against him faster, harder, Draco grasped at the small of Ron's back with a frantic tightening of his fingers to match Ron's rhythm.

Draco's hands were cupping and squeezing Ron's arse by the time their traded panting breaths came more and more quickly, and had actually slipped down the back of Ron's trousers when they finally stiffened against each other with a final round of gasps and moans.

Ron mouthed and then bit Draco's shoulder as the last of the shudders worked their way through his body. He turned his head, trying to catch his breath, and if the movement happened to make him rest his cheek against Malfoy's, it was only a matter of convenience.

A beat passed as their heartbeats returned to normal, as they began to breathe regularly.

"Well. Finally," Malfoy said.

Ron licked his lips. "What?"

Draco laughed and brushed his lips against Ron's mouth, a languid, slow movement full of promise.

"Right here next month, then, during the Hogsmeade trip just before the holidays?" Draco asked.

Ron cleared his throat. "I -- what?"

A few tugs at his shirt and trousers, a careful smoothing motion over his hair, and Draco looked presentable once more. He cast a glance up and down Ron’s disheveled clothes before pronouncing, "I look forward to it. Though not, I'm sorry to say, to your lack of conversational skills." And with that he lifted the tapestry to reveal the exit, and sauntered off.


End file.
